


Rose by Any Other Name

by junko



Series: Scatter and Howl [15]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Byakuya's birthday present is fraught.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose by Any Other Name

Captain Ōtoribashi helped Byakuya get Renji into bed. It was made slightly less difficult as Renji woke up enough to partly propel himself under his own volition. In no time, he was tucked under the sheets and sprawled out and snoring like a baboon.

Which left Byakuya standing, stark naked, uncertain what to say to the captain beyond, “Thank you again for your expertise, rope master.”

“Oh, no problem; it was a pleasure,” Ōtoribashi demurred. He continued to stand at the threshold of the bedroom, smiling rather indulgently at Renji. 

Byakuya began to wonder if some payment were due or if there were some other protocol he was unaware of that would send Ōtoribashi on his way. Should he get dressed? Ring for tea? He supposed an offer of tea would be gracious, but, honestly, what Byakuya wanted more than anything was a quick, private bath and then to crawl in next to Renji. Standing about in the nude was chilly and awkward and he was sticky and exhausted and growing more irritable by the passing second. But, Byakuya had hundreds of years of training in pretending at patience. This was really no different—if decidedly more chilly. Besides, one of the only things of value his grandfather had passed onto Byakuya was the concept that if you acted as though a situation didn’t bother you; eventually, it didn’t.

Ōtoribashi sighed, at last, and said, “I don’t quite know how you manage it. I’m normally quite uninterested in alpha males. Do the two of you butt heads a lot?”

“Frequently,” Byakuya admitted. 

“I suppose that makes conquering that much more satisfying?”

Seriously? They were going to discuss interpersonal relationships? Byakuya tried to hold back a sigh of frustration. He had to remind himself that this man had done him a great service and, in point of fact, despite this annoying post-event ‘pillow talk,’ Byakuya would still like to learn from him. 

But, if he were forced into idle chitchat, Byakuya had no intention of doing it buck-naked. He turned to the little alcove of the dressing room and spoke over his shoulder as he chose a yukata to wear. “I suppose,” Byakuya said. “Though ‘conquering’ isn’t really my goal. ‘Conquered’ smacks of ‘defeat,’ and Renji is impossible to truly defeat. He can be laid low, and often is, but, trust me, if there’s fight left he will be murdering you with his eyes, if nothing else. The idea of having that under my command, well, that’s what I find…” Byakuya tied the robe, and, suddenly remember he wasn’t just talking to himself, felt a stab of embarrassment as he finished: “…sexy.” 

“Ah,” Ōtoribashi applauded happily. “Well, thank you for that insight. Alas, if we should ever decide to play together as a foursome, I fear I’ll have nothing much to amuse me. Kira, I think will be ecstatic to be reunited with his friend, whom I think he’s had quite a crush on for some time. You, however, he finds terrifying, but then I believe he was quite terrified of Ichimaru, too.”

Byakuya nodded along, trying not to feel stabs of jealousy and a little disgust at being compared favorably to that creature Ichimaru. At least Ōtoribashi was walking himself to the door. Seeing him nearly leaving made Byakuya feel generous, “Is there anything I can send home with you? An extra plate of something for your friend?”

“No, no, I’m fine, thank you,” the captain said, finally stepping over the threshold into the hall. He glanced around, “Though I may need some help finding my way out. This place is huge.”

“Yes, of course,” Byakuya said, feeling crestfallen at the thought that he might have to endure more interpersonal chatter. “If you’ll just come back inside, I can ring for a servant to show you out.”

“Aren’t those the stairs I came up?” Ōtoribashi asked. “Where do they lead?”

Byakuya glanced in the direction Ōtoribashi indicated. “Oh, those are the servant’s stairs. They lead to the kitchens. But, surely, you’d prefer an escort to show you out properly? Something suiting your position as a captain and as our guest?”

Ōtoribashi was already heading down the stairs, giving Byakuya a backwards wave goodbye. “No, no, this is fine. Well, this evening was unexpectedly pleasant, Captain Kuchiki. I really do hope you’re serious, and we can do this again!”

“Yes, of course,” Byakuya said, though he doubted Ōtoribashi could hear him.

What a strange fellow. The Human World had clearly affected him, though, perhaps, not in an entirely unpleasant way. 

#

Renji slept deeply, but he woke to the end of a dream of being rolled and wrapped up in a cocoon by a giant spider. The sensation of being suspended and knotted up… well, he knew where that first part came from, but a spider? There was nothing about Rose that was like a spider. Quite the opposite, in fact: Renji felt safe and bundled and cuddled, held tight.

Rolling over, Renji snuggled up to Byakuya, who had at some point, disappointingly, put on a yukata. The room was dark, though there was a hint of light, as though the sun might be hugging the horizon or hidden behind a thick layer of clouds. Wind clacked a bare cherry branch against the eaves—a lonely sound. 

Renji’s fingers traced the pattern on Byakuya’s yukata. The design was floral, some kind of bobbing bluebell, painted over shimmering waves of gold. Dragonflies perched on a bud here and there. Callouses of Renji’s fingertips snagged on the soft silk. Byakuya wrinkled his nose in his sleep, as if disturbed by so light a touch.

Giving up, Renji tucked his arm around Byakuya’s taut, slender waist. Byakuya let out another irritated huff, but seemed to settle into it when Renji held stock-still and didn’t move again. Renji scowled into the tangle of Byakuya’s inky, black hair. Last night had been a huge mistake.

Renji knew what he was missing now.

Firm hands—patient, kind, thoughtful—had conveyed such strength and power in the simplest gestures. Even though Rose hadn’t touched Renji at all romantically, it had been deeply sexy. 

If that was what things were like when everything was intentionally clinical and professional, what would it be like if…

Renji stopped himself. No good would come from wondering about that. It was bad enough that he glared at the back of Byakuya’s head, wishing Byakuya wasn’t so fucking crippled that most nights he couldn’t even manage a decent post-coital cuddle, and that Renji had to satisfy himself in stolen moments like this, when Byakuya wasn’t awake and even seemed to hate being touched while sound asleep.

To be fair to the man, Byakuya had gotten better. Much better. More and more had been allowed, more loving words got exchanged, and there was even the occasional, unguarded fond glance.

Shit.

This was what he was grateful for? 

He really was just some starving dog thankful for the tiniest scraps. 

Renji closed his eyes, willing himself not to think. It would just depress him further, after all. Instead, he listened to the whistling wind and the tapping branch. The room still smelled of sweet grass or whatever Rose had thrown into the irori’s embers. 

A phantom sensation shivered through Renji, despite his attempts to empty his mind. The knots Rose had tied around Renji’s cock and balls had been very workmanlike, but done with such obvious understanding of what sensations would drive him the most insane with pleasure/pain. It had almost been too much. Byakuya pretty much ignored those parts of him, expecting Renji to perform regardless of stimulation. Suddenly, it was all: _Here. Now._ And, Renji going to places he hadn’t been to like that since…. He almost filled in ‘before Byakuya,’ but that wasn’t entirely fair. They sometimes went there, but not often enough and now, now all Renji could think about was how he wanted _That. There._

_Anywhere_.

Last night was a mistake.

A really fucking big one.

#

When Byakuya woke, it was because he was too hot. Renji was wrapped tightly up against him and breathed huffs of hot air onto the back of his neck. Byakuya lay there awhile, trying to tolerate it, but it felt too much like being smothered, suffocated. His heart started to race, and so he gave up and pushed himself away. After catching his breath, he sat up and rang for breakfast.

Renji rolled over with a grunt. Byakuya expected to see an intricate pattern of rope-shaped bruises covering his body, but Renji’s rock hard skin had protected him, like an Arrancar’s hierro. Even without the soul record’s confirmation, it would be impossible not to notice the similarities. 

Weirdly, it was not the idea that Renji was Hollow-like that bothered Byakuya, but the fact that it was something Renji had in common with Kenpachi Zaraki. Byakuya would really prefer never to be reminded of that barbarian in his bedroom.

Renji let out a long snore, and then another one, and another. Byakuya gently shook his shoulder. “Renji, wake up.”

“M’kay,” he said sleepily, and then he shot upright, albeit clumsily and half-blindly. He groped for Zabimaru, before seeming to remember his zanpakutō was in the other room. “Wait, why? What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” Byakuya said fondly. The blankets had fallen from Renji’s shoulders, and Byakuya admired the way the lines of the tattoos moved with Renji’s body. If only it were appropriate to ask him never to dress. Byakuya sighed at that thought. “You were snoring.”

“Oh, right,” Renji said, dragging his fingers through his ruby red hair, snagging, and pulling through the thick locks. Renji sat up, his shoulders slumping a bit as he blinked himself into wakefulness. “No tea yet?”

“It’s on its way,” Byakuya said, reaching for the novel he’d been reading. It was a dull read, honestly—too many courtly politics and not enough sword fighting for his tastes, but it passed the time… sort of. “Whatever happened to that manga I bought in the Human World,” he wondered aloud.

“I think Eishirō packed it with mine. It’s probably under my cot somewhere,” Renji yawned. He snuggled back under the covers, closing his eyes. “I can probably dig it up for you.”

Byakuya set his unsatisfying novel aside again. “Please. I’ve nothing good to read.”

A silence fell between them, and Byakuya thought, perhaps, Renji had fallen back to sleep, except his expression kept scrunching up into his fierce ‘thinking face,’ albeit with his eyes screwed shut.

“You’re either angry at me or thinking,” Byakuya surmised. “Or both.”

Renji’s eyes popped open—a little guiltily, Byakuya thought. “I was… erm, thinking about last night.” Renji frowned again, and then said, “I don’t think a foursome is a good idea.”

“Why not?” This seemed a surprising development. Byakuya had thought last night had gone particularly well for everyone. Did Renji not have a good time? Had Ōtoribashi done something untoward? 

Struggling back up, Renji grunted his way into a seated position on the bed. He sat with his back against the wall and his long legs stretched out in front of him. Un-customarily, he stared at his hands and didn’t meet Byakuya’s eyes. This had Byakuya particularly worried. He seemed to be struggling with how to say something. Finally, he scowled and, lifting his head to look away at the wall, he said, “It’s just a bad idea, okay?”

Byakuya pursed his lips. “No,” he said finally. “It’s not okay to leave it there. I need more information, Renji. Did something happen last night?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Renji murmured.

When he didn’t offer anything else, Byakuya let out a small sigh of frustration. Why was it that normally he couldn’t get Renji to stop chattering on about inconsequential things, but when it came to something important he suddenly clammed up? 

“Very well. I will abide by your decision, even though I don’t understand it,” Byakuya said. “I’m disappointed, however. Captain Ōtoribashi seems to be everything I’m not in terms of his understanding of this… art, and I had very much hoped to learn from him.” 

Something in Renji’s silence shifted. When Byakuya glanced at him, Renji was watching him with curious eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Byakuya folded the edge of his blanket, wishing the tea and breakfast would come soon, if for no other reason than he’d like something for his hands to do while they discussed this delicate matter. Fidgeting was unseemly. Taking a breath, he stilled his hands by folding them and said, “If you are uncomfortable with Rose, we should consider returning to those seminars in the Human World.”

“Whoa, you’d go back to the seminars?”

Why did this surprise Renji so much? Byakuya’s shortcomings in this matter seemed patently obvious, particularly after last night. It was humbling to realize just how little he understood. Perhaps Renji didn’t realize that Byakuya was well aware of what he still lacked? Or didn’t think he would admit it? “Renji, I’m terrible at aftercare. I nearly choked you once with my amateur kinbaku. Yet, despite all that, I could no more give it up than I could cut off my right arm. What else would you suggest?”

Byakuya held his breath, because he often feared that what Renji would suggest was that they give up on this particular… art entirely. Then what would Byakuya do? Forcing Renji to play these games would spell disaster quickly, but, when denied, it was all Byakuya thought about until it became a burning, hungry demon.

“I… just, I’m worried,” Renji said.

And of course, _that_ was the moment Eishirō arrived with the breakfast tray, and so it seemed an eternity until the food was laid out and Renji was settled across from him. Once everything was done and Byakuya had a steaming bowl of tea in his hands, he asked, “Worried? What worries you?”

Renji was shoveling rice and fish into his mouth in an obvious ploy to not have to talk about it.

“Renji, please,” Byakuya said. 

Swiping the hair from his face, Renji frowned, drawing the tattoos on his forehead down into something dark and animalistic. “I worry that if we’re doing this stuff with someone like Rose, I might, you know, start liking him.”

‘Liking’ him? Renji clearly meant more than that. “I see,” Byakuya said. He sipped his tea, as he considered the issue. “Ōtoribashi is a very beautiful man.” A glance at Renji told Byakuya that wasn’t it, at all. Byakuya had guessed wrong; it wasn’t physical attraction. “And so very different from me.”

Open. Kindhearted. Affectionate.

Renji looked as devastated by this as Byakuya felt, but what could they do about this? Byakuya could only be what he was. He had little doubt that Renji loved him in spite of this, but he now understood Renji’s worry completely. If they spent time around a lovey-dovey couple, Renji could become resentful. And, even if Byakuya tried to emulate that behavior it would ring false and awkward.

“We will find a kinbaku instructor who is utterly unkind,” Byakuya decided. “Someone colder than I am.”

Renji laughed, but not cruelly. “Or certifiable. Kūkaku Shiba was my first choice, you know.”

Byakuya’s brain went through several contortions trying to imagine sharing Renji with that Shiba woman, much less dealing with the intimacy of the moment. “She’s missing an arm. How is she even capable?”

Renji chuckled again. “I have no idea.”

Byakuya was certain he wouldn’t last more than a minute in the company of Kükaku Shiba and the idea of how smug she would be teaching him… Byakuya didn’t think he could maintain the proper humble student attitude in the face of that. “No,” Byakuya said sadly, “It will have to be someone else. The Human World may be our best option. Surely, you would relish the opportunity to check in on Ichigo Kurosaki?”

To Byakuya’s surprise, Renji shrugged unhappily, “I don’t know about that.” Then, he seemed to turn a few things over in his mind. Glancing up, he looked excited as he asked, “You don’t think Lady Yoruichi or Urahara know anything about this stuff, do you? Urahara is possibly colder than you. If nothing else, he scares the shit out of me. I can’t see myself falling for him.”

Eating a bit of fish, Byakuya thought about this option. Yoruichi would be an interesting teacher. She would also be smug, but it would be in a way that would challenge Byakuya to be better. She’d long had that effect on him, after all. Everything about her was maddening, but he never failed to learn from her. Urahara… Byakuya was less certain, though, perhaps if it were the two of them? 

“I’ll make inquiries,” Byakuya said, even though he knew that hellcat would embarrass and humiliate him in the process. “If nothing else, they might know who we could ask.”

Renji nodded. He put some pickles on Byakuya’s plate and then helped himself to a large portion. Crunching on a few, he said, “And, you know, forearmed and all that. We could try Rose and Kira, too. “

Byakuya was surprised by this, but pleased. “Yes, of course. Perhaps if we go in with a plan to combat my lack of romance…” though suddenly, what that might be failed Byakuya, and he trailed off.

Fortunately, Renji had an answer. Brightening, he said, “Yeah, like some kind of date. You could take me out to dinner or, if you could stand it, out dancing in the Human World, again.”

“Would that work?” Byakuya was astounded. Renji hadn’t asked for cuddling.

“I don’t see why not,” Renji said, scooping up a handful of rice in nori. “You’re good at pampering me that way.”

As well he should be, Byakuya thought with a rush of pride. It was the only kind of romance he truly understood. He had, in point of fact, been trained to court with gifts and flowers and such. “If you will allow me to learn from Rose occasionally, I will pamper you like a prince.”

“Heh,” Renji smiled wolfishly. “I think I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, it's still this week! I manage to get an installment in (albeit a short one)! Whoot! (And thanks to Josey for her typo-spotting... I had a lot more than usual this time, so if you see any ones we missed, let me know!)


End file.
